


Dark Matter

by wumbo_requiem



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26963788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wumbo_requiem/pseuds/wumbo_requiem
Summary: Skwisgaar decides to stay the night with Magnus. That decision comes with feelings neither are prepared to deal with.
Relationships: Magnus Hammersmith/Skwisgaar Skwigelf
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	Dark Matter

This was supposed to be a simple visit. Skwisgaar had just come to grab a pair of sunglasses he'd left behind. But of course it turned into something else. It had turned out the same way it always did: with Skwisgaar lounging across the couch while Magnus took a smoke, petting the Swede's head in his lap. Soft TV voices were just loud enough to drown out the silence, but not so loud they interrupted the moment.

Magnus watched as Skwisgaar's bare chest heaved up and down. Magnus had put his clothes back on as soon as they finished, not wanting to feel exposed for a minute too long. But Skwisgaar, someone with the body of a god and confidence to boot, liked to lounge around half naked whenever he got the chance. And Magnus had been told  _ he _ was narcissistic. 

The moment was peaceful, but it wouldn't last. Soon they would have to go back to their real lives. Skwisgaar would be back on top of the world, with all the foreign girls and booze he could dream of. Happily forgetting that Magnus was always here to humble him. That was, until he decided he needed him again. 

And Magnus would go back to living in his shadow. To fucking up at the things Skwisgaar excelled at. Working for the means to achieve an unknown end. He didn't know what the hell it was all supposed to be for. 

He stubbed out his cigarette.

Skwisgaar stirred from his lazy haze, sliding up further on Magnus' lap, looking straight up at him. "You ams quiets tonights… usually you gots somet'ings to says," he mused, half heartedly reaching up to play with the ends of Magnus' hair. 

Magnus made an indistinct grunt. He didn't mind the affectionate twisting. He didn't mind for a second the other hand that was tracing lines up and down his idle arm. But tonight more than ever he was reminded that all of this wasn't  _ real _ , and never would be. He could  _ have _ Skwisgaar and yet he could never have  _ Skwisgaar _ .

"'M just tired, I guess." 

"You didn'ts seem so tired when we was, you knows~" he waggled his eyebrows. 

Magnus let out a wheezy laugh. "My energy is spent, man. That's where it fuckin'  _ went _ ." 

Skwisgaar's lips drew up into a smile. "You wants to go sleeps it off?" 

_ Did _ he. "Honestly, yeah." His fingers smoothed over Skwisgaar's scalp. The younger man's eyes closed at the touch. "Just let yourself out, I guess. And uh, call me." The words sounded so cliche coming out of his mouth, but he meant them. 

One of Skwisgaar's eyes popped open and he made a face. "I meants like. We both sleeps, toget'ers. Do you wants to does dats? Sometimes I does dat wit' de gorls I sees." 

Except for the last part, which struck Magnus' heart like ice, the offer was unexpected, and enticing. Skwisgaar  _ wanted _ that from him? Who was he to deny what he wanted, too? 

"O-Oh. Yeah. Sure, I mean." With that, Skwisgaar got up off his lap, and they both pulled themselves off the couch, and headed for the bedroom. 

Magnus didn't sit on the bed so much as land on it, face first and with one arm stretched over his head. Skwisgaar chuckled and flopped down beside him, draping an arm over Magnus' back. 

"Skwishgaar," Magnus said, face smooshed into the mattress. "You forgot the lightsh?" 

"Oh, rights." In a moment, all went dark, and Magnus sighed. Finally, eyes opened or closed, he saw nothing. The blackness helped him forget the impermanence of the situation. Where even were they? Fuckin' just floating around in space, that's where. And that was how he liked it. 

Skwisgaar snuggled up close to him, perhaps also emboldened by the dark. Magnus turned onto his side to face him, and he could feel their noses brush together. He smiled, and wondered if Skwisgaar was, too. 

Magnus propped one leg over Skwisgaar's, and wrapped his arms around him, hands naturally migrating to Skwisgaar's silky hair. It was his favourite thing, playing with it. He never usually got to do it for long, though, because Skwisgaar usually left. He pushed down the confusing feelings that this bonus time brought up for him, and focused on the gentle breaths coming from the other man, the rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his skin against his own. That was pure goodness. That was all that was real in this void world, this empty space they occupied with just each other. 

When Skwisgaar spoke, his voice sounded soft and tiny, so unlike him. "You knows what… I was t'inkin's. De gorls, dey never holds me likes dis. Likes dey don'ts wants me to goes." 

Magnus felt everything in him come to a screeching halt. His hands went limp against the mattress, his heart missed a beat, his breath hitched. He hated this. He hated when Skwisgaar put words to it, because what did it even  _ matter _ when he was just going to leave anyway? But like usual, he was right. Magnus took a breath.

"Maybe cuz I don't want you to." He tried to sound as nonchalant as possible. "I don't want to be cold and alone. Nobody does." He nuzzled his face against Skwisgaar's shoulder. 

Skwisgaar tucked Magnus' hair behind his ear, at which Magnus shuddered. The touch was so gentle and practiced. He realized he must have done this to hundreds of women before, but it felt so good he couldn't bring himself to care.  _ Damn _ it.

"Ams differents. It feels differents." 

There was a hint of something in Skwisgaar's voice that made it more of a question. Like  _ this feels different, right? Tell me, tell me you feel it. _ Magnus didn't understand - Skwisgaar was not supposed to care. Technically, neither of them were. Maybe they were both too tired and high off each other to remember that. 

"Mm. Maybe." _I feel it._ _But what am I supposed to do when you leave? Stop playing with me. Let me sleep._ Magnus yawned softly, and settled his hands against Skwisgaar's back, softly rubbing his thumbs over his skin and the ridges of his spine. Every second he spent like this, every little bit of energy he put into being with Skwisgaar, made the pain worse. He was only digging himself a deeper grave to fall into when the morning came and he was all alone in his apartment. God, it hurt. The darkness was supposed to be blissful, like the outer reaches of the universe, but it was starting to feel more like being sucked into a black hole. 

Magnus didn't like the silence. Was Skwisgaar asleep? He didn't care. "Do you want it to be different?" He whispered, feeling his hands twitch. 

Skwisgaar was quiet, but Magnus could sense him contemplating. He took a second too long. "All I knows ams dat, I likes dis, right nows." How noncommittal. Magnus could feel himself sinking. 

"I do too," he tried.  _ Salvage this. Fix it. Keep him. Take him away. Keep him.  _ "We can keep doing this…" he cupped Skwisgaar's face in his hand and ran a finger along the edge of his ear, earning something like a purr. Skwisgaar loved it when Magnus touched his ears, it was his weakness. Well, one of them. "...if you like…" 

Skwisgaar laughed quietly. "I t'inks dat was de plans." His hand squeezed Magnus' side.  _ His _ weakness.  _ Oh no, it feels good. Fine, keep me awake. Never stop it. _

So that's how it was fated to be, Magnus guessed. The two of them would go on with life as if nothing had happened, then come back together in the end, and the cycle would continue. They each were living two lives. It was exhausting missing him, and not knowing who else he was sleeping with, and wondering if he even gave a shit. Magnus found himself thinking of Skwisgaar again and again during the times they spent apart, and it always came back to the same assumption:  _ he doesn't think about you at all _ , supported by the evidence _ : if he did, he would be here right now.  _

Maybe that was why he kept lying to himself. As long as Skwisgaar  _ was _ over, that meant he cared right? He cared right now, as they spent the night in each others' embrace, didn't he? He had to.

Purgatory, all this was. All questions and no answers. All waiting, and for what?

Magnus sighed and let himself melt, feeling heavy in Skwisgaar's arms. His mind could keep going in circles but he was increasingly aware that that meant wasting the moment. So he told the little voice to shut up. To just shut the  _ fuck up _ . 

"Mmm," he grumbled. "Let's get some sleep." 

Skwisgaar surprised him with a kiss to the forehead. It was kind of sloppy and missed the mark, one lip hitting his eyebrow. Magnus' face felt warm. His lips found Skwisgaar's cheek. 

"Goodnights." 

That voice. So beautiful it could coax him into doing anything, like relaxing when his brain was on fire.  _ Please _ . Magnus hoped it would still be there in the morning, when light returned and the illusion was gone and all that was left were their physical forms and guarded feelings.  _ Please. Just don't leave. Just don't ever leave.  _

  
  


_______

In the morning, Skwisgaar was the first to wake. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with one thumb, the other hand still tucked protectively around Magnus' sleeping form. A soft wheeze left the older man's nose every time he breathed. It was endearing. 

Morning was peaceful. Skwisgaar was grateful for a chance to observe the sleeping man. Magnus' curls fell all around him, spilling across the pillow and half obscuring his face. He looked less tortured in his sleep than he did while he was awake. Something in the relaxed lines of Magnus' face broke Skwisgaar's heart. 

Why was he still here? 

Oh, yeah, because he chose to be. 

Skwisgaar held back a sigh. He wanted this moment to last for as long as he could make it, before he inevitably had to leave it behind. Preferably, he'd disappear before Magnus woke up. All he could do was cherish the seconds slipping through his fingers, like sand, like soft brown curls that looked almost auburn in the morning light. 

There were a plethora of reasons why he couldn't have Magnus. Not in the sense of a real relationship, at least. Magnus was everything that was bad for him. He was much older, he had hurt his friends, and the big awkward one- he was another man. If the band found out about this, he wouldn't hear the end of it. He would be done for. Dethklok had no tolerance for traitors. He felt like a hypocrite.

Magnus was three parts insane and one part irresistible, and it was an intoxicating concoction. Staying with him was Skwisgaar's habit, one that he could kick like a drug, if he so chose. But it would have been easier to quit drinking than to force himself to part with that crooked grin, the smartass remarks, and all that those lips could do. It was easier for him to come and go as he pleased, than to try to go all or nothing. He tried hard not to think about which one, in the end, it was going to have to be. 

It was getting more and more difficult to stay away, he realized. It was... complicated. With the girls, he didn't know their names, and much less cared to learn them. He could sleep with one knowing he would never see her again. He might let her stay the night, if she wanted. She could make him breakfast, he really didn't care, as long as she was out of his hair by noon. But with Magnus, it was different. Skwisgaar had the misfortune of  _ knowing _ him, and with knowing came  _ caring _ . Magnus was a repeat offender of sorts. There was an obligation. A connection. 

What scared him most was that Magnus was the first person  _ he _ had ever asked to stay the night with. Skwisgaar had never been the one to ask the girls. Because there were so many of them, each experience with a groupie was just another drop in the bucket, identical to the rest. 

But there was only one Magnus. There was only one shitty apartment in the heart of a dirty town he would leave the comfort of his home for. Only one bed he would rather be sleeping in than his own. 

These thoughts were dangerous. He had to leave. A growing sense of unrest crept through him as he lay there, arms still tucked around Magnus. With a guilty feeling in his heart, he gently peeled himself away. Magnus was a heavy sleeper. Hopefully, when he woke up, he wouldn't think too much about Skwisgaar's absence. 

Checking his phone, he realized he had a few missed calls from Nathan. Shit. He was going to have to explain himself. He could always say he had spent the night with a girl, but that would be suspicious, because he always had girls delivered  _ to _ him. Maybe they'd buy it if he specified it was a Gmilf? He'd think of a lie on the road, when his brain was a little more awake. 

For the time being, he worked on getting dressed. First, his shirt, then his pants and boots followed. They stank like sweat and smoke and Magnus' cologne. He couldn't wait to go home and take a shower and… well, after that he would go back to hanging out with the band, he guessed. It should have seemed more apealing than it did. 

When he was ready to leave, his eyes lingered on Magnus for a moment too long. He wished things could be easier between them, but this was reality. An old man sleeping on a bed with a thin blanket in a filthy room, and a young rockstar ready to embark on his first walk of shame since fame struck. Lit up by the harsh daylight, he could see their situation for what it was: ugly, flawed, and inescapable. It wasn't love, but it was some type of addiction. He and Magnus both knew enough about those.

Skwisgaar knew he would be back, just as soon as the withdrawl kicked in. And Magnus would be there, waiting to provide his next fix. 


End file.
